


Ice

by phantomunmasked



Series: It's in the everyday ordinary that we see love [14]
Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:47:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomunmasked/pseuds/phantomunmasked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrea, Sharon, and a tumbler of whiskey on the rocks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayryn/gifts).



> Right. So i know i've been away for a while in terms of the fic writing front because real life, but i've managed to bang out something in a fit of "i need to write or i'll go crazy"-ness. 
> 
> Prompt was "Ice", and i just sat down and wrote the first thing that came to mind. Didn't get this beta-ed, so sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes etc. Just sat down and vomited this all out. Whoop. That's the way i roll, y'all. 
> 
> Dedicated to kayryn, as part of a whole bunch of fics i undoubtedly owe her for showing us around her hometown when I came to visit with a bunch of friends.

The tell-tale tinkle of ice into a crystal glass roused Sharon from her (unintentional) nap. She moaned slightly as she sat up, pressing firm fingers against the crick she had so conveniently developed in her neck.

 

“Sleep well?” Andrea’s voice was warm, and Sharon smiled, shifted to peer over the back of her sofa.

“Not bad. You’re having whiskey…good day, then?”

“Mmm, yes. Remember Ralph McKeown?” 

“The arsonist who torched a string of Dunkin’ Donuts?”

“That’s the one. Sentencing was today – Mr McKeown won’t be seeing a donut for the next 15 years or so.”

“I’m sure Chief Johnson must have been… _grateful_ that you managed to put away someone who had committed such sins against confectionary.”

 

Andrea snorted and ambled around the couch to settle next to Sharon. She took a sip of her whiskey, placed it neatly on a coaster on the coffee table.

 

“Oh yes, Brenda was there, and I must say, I’ve never seen such righteous, unholy triumph in someone’s eyes at a sentencing. The Ding Dong that Chief Johnson had before probably didn’t help things.”

 

Sharon snorted softly, tucked her legs under herself even as she turned to face her lover.

 

“I can only imagine. “

“I swear, one day I have to get that woman to share her fitness secrets. It’s simply physically impossible to consume _that much_ processed sugar and not crash from a sugar coma or put on _any weight_. Sometimes life just isn’t fair, Sharon.”

 

Sharon huffed a soft laugh in reply and patted Andrea comfortingly on the knee. With a long-suffering sigh, Andrea picked up her tumbler of whiskey once more and took another sip, humming in pleasure as she tilted her head back, rested it against the back of the sofa.

 

“How was your day?”

  
Andrea’s voice was a quiet murmur, and Sharon smiled, even as she took in the perfection that was Andrea’s bared neck.

 

“It was quiet, thank goodness. A rare day of peace, really. No OIS cases at all. Managed to demolish a bit of my paperwork mountain and decided to take the chance to escape a little early.”

“Good, good. Did Lieutenant Bauer try to hit on you again?”

“Oh God, _yes._ ”

 

Now it was Andrea’s turn to snort in laughter as she cracked open one blue eye to peer at her lover.

 

“Do tell.”

“This time he tried one of Shakespeare’s sonnets on me. Sonnet 18. How _unoriginal_ , don’t you think?”

“Indeed. How shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

“That’s the one.”

“How did you react?”

“The same way I always do. A smile, a nod, and then the door politely but firmly shut in his face.”

“Mmm. Good, good. I’d hate for Lieutenant Bauer to succeed one day.”

 

Andrea’s last statement was accompanied by a possessory hand cupping Sharon’s jaw, and she was rewarded by laughter in those familiar green eyes. She stroked an idle thumb across Sharon’s cheekbone, and the good captain leaned into the touch, turned her head to press a kiss to Andrea’s palm.

 

“He never will, Andrea.”

  
Sharon’s whisper was silk against her palm, and Andrea shivered, savoured the tingles that raced up her arm. Hastily she took another sip of her whiskey, let it burn a clear path down her throat. Sharon smirked, moved her lips to the pulse point at Andrea’s wrist.  
  
“I…”

 

A kiss.

 

“am…”

 

A slight nip.

 

“ _yours…”_

A soothing tongue, lovingly caressing the small mark Sharon had made. 

 

Andrea shuddered, whimpered as she tried to pull away. Sharon let her, smirked mightily even as she plucked Andrea’s tumbler of whiskey from her lover’s limp fingers. She held Andrea’s gaze, draining the glass of the remaining liquor as blue eyes hungrily watched her swallow the potent amber liquid. The older woman set the empty glass on the table, for once careless if she had set it down on a coaster or not. In one swift movement she had straddled her lover, and familiar hands came to rest on her hips, steadying her. Bracing herself with one hand on Andrea’s shoulder and the other against the back of the couch, Sharon leaned down to kiss Andrea, deeply, surely. Andrea whimpered as she tasted the familiarity of smoked peat and _Sharon_ , gripped her lover’s hips tighter as Sharon drew back, laved a cool tongue against _that spot_ on her neck.

 

“ _Sharon_.”

 

Andrea’s voice was strangled, and she could feel her lover’s lips curve into a wicked, _wicked_ smile against her neck.

 

“Mmmm… yes, Andrea?”

 

Sharon’s breath was cold against Andrea’s heated skin, and she realised with a jolt that Sharon had taken the ice she had put in her whiskey, had decided to tease her _mercilessly._

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Sharon chuckled darkly, and Andrea tried furiously to ignore the way her lover had pressed closer to her, had tangled a warm hand in her hair and _pulled_ , just so.

 

“Why, Andrea. I’m _reassuring_ you, of course.”

 

So saying, Sharon slipped a sly hand between their bodies, wound her way under the waistband of Andrea’s trousers even as she delivered a hard kiss to Andrea’s thudding pulse point, soothed it with a cold, _cold_ tongue. The younger woman gasped, and hurriedly tugged at Sharon’s blouse, pulling it free from her lover’s skirt. One hand caressed the warm, smooth skin of the older woman’s lower back even as the other gripped her exposed thigh where Sharon’s skirt had ridden up. Her palm tingled where it met scalloped lace, and Andrea’s fingers stuttered to a halt when she realised that Sharon had worn _those_ thigh highs to work.

 

That was it.

 

With a small grunt, Andrea surged off the couch, her older lover laughing in surprise even as strong legs wrapped about her waist. She did nothing for a moment but stand there, her most precious cargo pressing butterfly kisses along her jawline as the world righted itself.

 

“I love you, Andrea.”

 

Sharon’s admission was soft, warm breath (the ice cube had long since melted) quick against the shell of Andrea’s ear. The younger woman nodded, chest heaving with exertion and emotion as she tilted her head back, sought a kiss of affirmation. Blue eyes blazed with sincerity as they regarded green, and Andrea turned, made her way down the hall to their bedroom as her lover clung to her.

 

Quickly nudging the door open with her foot Andrea deposited Sharon on their bed gently. Standing back for a moment she held Sharon’s gaze as she quickly undid the buttons on her blazer, made quick work of her silk blouse. With sure grace Andrea moved to hover over Sharon’s prone form, weight braced on her forearms as she leaned close, shared the same intimate breath with her lover.

 

“And I, you, my love.”

 

A small, tremulous smile was her answer, so genuine and filled with affection that Andrea’s heart thudded ever harder, felt like it would burst with the sheer _emotion_ she felt for this woman. Another kiss, and Andrea let herself loose, let herself simply _be_ in the heady reality that was _Sharon, Sharon, Sharon_ , a multitude of gods and goddesses personified in mortal form.

 

This was a memory she would keep, Andrea thought; another snapshot of passion shot through with the desperation of the most honest emotion, the most genuine love and respect and simple _understanding_ of the very marrow of each other’s being. This was but one of the myriad tales she would tell with a quiet smile on her face, years and years from now, as the phantom caress of an ice-chilled tongue whispered across her skin, the heady taste of whiskey and her lover tingled on her tongue. This was story of their love, and as Andrea keened her completion into the still summer air, that familiar low murmur urging her on, she wept at the sheer _perfection_ of it all.

 

This – this was love.

 


End file.
